One Wrong Word
by Thelexpiea
Summary: dun dun dun... a new serial killers about.... and, gasp cain's out to solve the mystery. Who'd've thunk.. .;;; Actually kindof a serious story...
1. Prologue

"Sir, if you wish, your bed is prepared."  
  
The soft, respectful words broke in upon whatever thoughts filled the young Count Hargreave's mind, and the familliar, caring voice shuffled them quietly away, leaving him free to focus on the simple, warm, homey pleasures which Riff kept always ready for his master.  
  
Or at least, that was the way it was supposed to work, Cain thought sourly. Lately he found his mind filled with things altogether different from the normal, natural, familliar, contemplation of death and the darkness which filled the world. Before, Riff's voice had served to clear Cain's mind. Lately it just made it more of a mess.  
  
Cain missed the darkness.  
  
He hadn't had a good, bloody murder to contemplate in weeks. No strange activity. Barely even a simple mugging. Of course his mind was running away from him. It was bored. And like his little sister Merryweather, it began to pull stunts to keep iteslf entertained. Or something.  
  
"Sir Caine?" Riff made his way over to his master, who had yet to respond to his valet's first suggestion that the young man go to bed. The Count was exhausted, that was for certain. The difference was, lately it had become an exhaustion of the soul, a sort of listlessness and detatchment from those around him. Especially Riff. Or at least that's the way it seemed. It probably just seemed that way because the Count spent so much more of his time with the valet than anyone else. Silently, Riff cursed the spontaneous wave of peace which had broken out across London. When it had first arrived, he had been close to thanking each and every god by name. The young master had had no reason to go gallavanting out to all hours of the night, returning only after Riff had worked himself to new peaks of worry. The fact that the Count was also often injured on these escapades did nothing to ease his servant's mind. But now, seeing his master sitting at home every evening, with even Merryweather's antics fail to bring light to her brother's eyes, Riff was close to going and committing murder himself. Never had the Count been so distant and emotionless with his friend than in the last few weeks.  
  
Riff sighed before bowing once more to the youth in front of him, "Master Cain. Will you be coming to bed tonight?"  
  
Cain jumped slightly, and gave his head the tiniest of shakes, as if to dislodge an unwelcome thought. He turned to his oldest companion and smiled, expressing all the gratitude and emotion he had never been taught words for.  
  
He lay tucked into his bed as his eyes silently followed Riff as he moved around the room, extinguishing lamps and collecting dirty clothing before he moved to leave the room. As the door swung closed, a whispered question moved across the room; "How could I ever be worthy of you?"  
  
~*~  
  
Well... there will be more. Like maybe a plot. I don't think this even has a plot yet. Ths isn't even fluff... O_o I don't think there's a word for what this is yet. But there will be more, once I come up with it. And I really think I need to read more of the manga... I'm only part-way through Vol. 2, so if there's anything severely inconsistant, sorry about that. But in the meantime, why don't you r&r? I won't actually get down and beg for comments.  
  
....  
  
well, okay, maybe I will... But doesn't everyone? ^^;; Anyway, thanks for reading, ta ta for now. 


	2. Chapter One

"Cain, wonderful news!" Merryweather bound into the room to grab her brother's hand, "Riff took me to town, to go shopping, and I overheard two whores gossiping about rumors of murder!"  
  
Cain stared at his sister, and then his butler. His eye twitched slightly. In a deadly quiet voice, he asked, "Exactly what kind of stores were you taking her to. Riff?" The valet winced at his master's tone. "And you, Merry," Cain continued. "What influence could have possibly taught you such foul, inappropriate language?"  
  
Merry blinked at her brother, and his incomprehensible behavior. "Improper? Brother, you can be so silly sometimes! Mother and I used to tell them all their fortunes, to pass the time when there were no customers around." The little girl frowned, "I always feel sorry for them. They have such sad lives. I remember, mother used to change her readings, so they would always have happy fortunes. At least the two we saw today seemed perfectly happy!"  
  
Cain sighed, "Well then. Merry, why don't we leave the gossip for dinner, and right now you can go get what you bought, and show it to me. Since you had to go all over town to find it."  
  
Disappointment at being forced to delay her news warred with the need to show off her new posessions. She thought briefly about arguing with her brother's plan, but the large, pink box left forgotten in the entry called her name, and Merryweather quickly bounced out the room to rescue it.  
  
Barely had the door swung shut, than Riff moved to apologize, "Sir Cain, I am deeply sorry for my error. Miss Merryweather was most insistant on visiting this particular store, and I am afraid I let her enthusiasm overwhelm my sense of judgment. Not that the area around the town was really bad. I would never take her near someplace like that. The street was merely a little questionable, and I must admit I turned a blind eye, to keep Miss Merryweather happy. However, that is no excuse, and I leave myself open to whatever punishment you see fit, Master Cain," he stood, head bowed down, braced for whatever his master would say.  
  
Cain said nothing. After a few moments, the valet lifted his head, and caught sight of his Count, sitting with his hands pressed firmly over his mouth, his hair framing the merriment in his eyes. Utterly confused by Cain's sudden shift in mood, which left him expressing more emotion in the last minute than Riff had seen since their return from the countryside. At the look on his friend's face, Cain couldn't hold in his laughter any longer.  
  
"My dear Riff. How could I ever hope to be worthy of a servant like you? Please, stop worrying. I am sure that Merryweather will survive this experience just fine. She just... surprised me, that's all."  
  
The butler relaxed visibly, and even smiled, "No, Sir. How could I ever be worthy of serving one such as you."  
  
Gold-green eyes darkened slightly, "Riff..."  
  
"Brother! What do you think? Isn't it beautiful? I can wear it to the party at the Mansfield home next week!" Merryweather had returned, and pirouetted, showing off her new dress as her brother looked over.  
  
Cain's eyes widened, "How do you know about that?"  
  
"Oh! Riff told me, while we were out."  
  
The valet raised a hand to his face guiltily, "It was a slip of the tongue, sir."  
  
"I'm sure," Cain replied dryly. "And Merry, are you positive you want to go to this. It will be very dull. We could stay home, play cards or something. Did I ever teach you piquet?"(1)  
  
Merryweather shot a look to her brother, "No. But I think it'll be more fun if we get out of the house for once. Besides, I thought you didn't like playing cards."  
  
The siblings stared at each other, until Cain finally gave in, "Very well. I suppose we could go for one evening."  
  
Later, when Riff went to inform the Hargreaves siblings of their dinner being ready, he found Merryweather still in her room, idly fingering some of the ribbons and trinkets before her, looking utterly miserable. Upon the sight of the valet, the girl's eyes grew even more meloncholy, and her lower lip began to tremble. Worried, Riff inquired if there was anything troubling her.  
  
Merryweather sniffed, and ran across the room to cling to the tall man. Burying her face in his coat, she snuffled, "Riff, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a bad girl."  
  
This sudden apology took the butler by complete surprise, "What on earth do you mean? You were perfectly behaved today, Miss Merry."  
  
"No, no!" she pulled away to look earnestly into confused blue eyes, "I'm a bad girl, because today, when brother got mad at you, and it was really all my fault, it made me happy. I was so happy I didn't try to stop him or anything."  
  
The depth of the girl's worry was touching, both in regard to her transgression against Riff, and for her brother, who had been unnaturally reserved and emotionless since their return from the countryside. Seeing an obvious mirror to his own fears in Merryweather's troubled eyes, Riff tried to calm the girl, "It is truly okay, Miss Merry. You have no need to worry at all. Master Cain's anger made me happy, too. It has been too long since Master Cain showed such emotion, don't you agree?" Especially in my presence. The thought surfaced so suddenly it shocked the stoic butler. He tried to shake it off as quickly as he could, naming it the accidental result of the stress which his constant worry must have unknowingly placed on his own mind. "And so, Miss Merry, please do not allow such thoughts to trouble you anymore, for they certainly do not trouble me."  
  
The girl beamed, "Okay! Thank-you, Riff!" Fears allayed, Merryweather moved her focus to the news of dinner, and energetically grabbed Riff's hand, pulling him out the door and towards the dining room.  
  
Dinner was relatively simple, as the siblings found only a soup and roasted chicken placed upon the table. As she buttered a bun, Merryweather began to apply to Riff in hopes of cajoling a promise of his scones, in recompense for the small meal. The butler merely smiled, and assured her they would see, as he suruptitiously slipped some vegetables onto the girl's plate.  
  
In an effort to head off the imminent complaints upon the newest addition to her meal, Cain asked, "Now, Merry, it's dinnertime. What is this rumor of murder you overheard?"  
  
Eyes widened as Merryweather remembered her news, "Oh, yes! I'm sorry that I forgot for a moment. Well, we overheard the... women discussing how lately people had been disappearing. As of yet, none of the victims have been anyone of consequence, so the newspapers and police have taken no notice, yet."  
  
"I thought you said it was gossip of murder, not a few women disappearing," Cain reminded his sister gently.  
  
Merry huffed, "I was getting there. And it's men, not women, so far. And it turns out that one of the women had been staying in this certain inn, and just that morning there was a body found there, in a closet, and you'll never guess who it was!" too excited to give anyone even a chance, she rushed on, "it was the body of the first man, who went missing almost a full week ago."  
  
Cain had stopped eating completely, "And so, there is no link between the missing men at all?"  
  
"Just that none of them have been of much social importance. Oh!" Merryweather suddenly brightened as she remembered, "and they were all last seen as they left some pub or other..."  
  
The Count smiled as he returned once more to the meal before him. "Well, I do believe I shall go visit that store tomorrow. Perhaps those women shall once again be there. You know, Merry, I think this may be the best shopping trip you have ever had." His sister looked over to her friend and smiled, silently joining in celebration of the animation which had so long been missing from her brother's movements. "Oh, and Riff," Cain continued, oblivious, "this meal is truly excellent. Could you please remind me to compliment the cook?"  
  
Riff bowed his head to obscure the flush which creeped across his cheeks, "Actually, Sir Cain, Cook Hastings was forced to take a leave of absence this afternoon. Her daughter had just given birth to her first grandchild."  
  
"Really? then where did this wonderful meal come from?"  
  
"Ah, well Sir. I prepared this, after returning with Miss Merry this afternoon."  
  
Cain looked at his butler incredulously, and blurted, "Oh, Riff! Whatever would I do without you?"  
  
A small smile, "As I intend never to leave Sir, we shall never be forced to discover."  
  
Cain smiled faintly and turned back to his plate. However, he passed the rest of the meal in a troubled silence.  
  
After dinner, Merryweather surprised everyone as she declared herself exhausted from the day's activities, and that she wanted to withdraw for bed as soon as possible. In the silent room she left behind her, Cain sat staring pensivly into the fire, while Riff began to prepare his master's tea.  
  
As his servant was about to remove himself to the kitchen, to boil the water, Cain spoke, "That won't be necessary tonight, Riff."  
  
Surprised, Riff ventured to question his master, "I'm sorry, sir? You do not wish for your evening tea?"  
  
"You are to have the night off. And do not worry, I am sure I shall manage to pour my own tea for once."  
  
Riff's brow creased in confusion, "Off, sir? I'm afraid I don't understand."  
  
"It's not that complicated, dear Riff. Tonight we Hargreaves are not your concern. Pay a visit to an old friend. Meet someone new. Whatever you wish." Seeing him about to protest, Cain quickly continued, "Really, Riff. It's far past time for you to have some time that is your own. All the other staff take a day, or evening out of every week where they do as they please. You should too." His face darkened, "After all, your life cannot possibly be complete babysitting a worthless fool such as myself."  
  
"Sir! How could you say such a thing? It has always been my greatest pleasure to serve you. You are my world."  
  
Cain's fists tightened. "No, Riff! I will not accept that. I don't deserve that. I could never live with myself... knowingly, selfishly stealing what future you may have, as I did the past," he stood, and drew himself to his full height. "Riff, from now on you will take time off every week. I am still to selfish to be capable of offering you a return to medicine... but I cannot allow myself keeping everything from you."  
  
Struck dumb by his master's impassioned speech, Riff could only stand, unable to alleviate the misery which radiated from the count.  
  
Cain took a deep breath, and finally looked up from the fire to face his silent companion, and tried to smile, "This will be good for you. Maybe you'll even meet a girl... fall in love," he sighed. "Now go. I won't let you tell me you'd rather spend your evening here, or anything like that."  
  
Riff bowed his head, unable to argue his master's wishes, "As you wish." Nothing like that would ever happen, his traitorous mind continued on, this house has become my world, you have become my world, and I can imagine no woman, no matter how perfect, could hope to change that.  
  
Cain sat once more, staring into the fire, not looking up as Riff moved to the door. Not looking up as he left the study. Not listening to the retreating footsteps. Not listening to the rustle of cloth as Riff was undoubtably pulling on his coat. Not listening as the dorr creaked open, ash his friend slipped out into the world.  
  
Cain sat. Not looking, not listening, trying desperatly not to think. He merely sat, chin resting in his cupped palm, cursed eyes gazing into the fire. Trying to lose himself int he shifting, glowing dance before him.  
  
The room had grown cold. Cain became aware of this gradually. The fire before him was nothing more than a small collection of embers, barely retaining any colour, cold and dying. Cain han't moved. Still not listening, still fighting against any thought. He wasn't thinking about the time, or the light which was creeping through the window. He wasn't thinking about the other entrances to the house, which were certainly beyond his hearing. He certainly wasn't worrying.  
  
As the last tiny ember darkened to black, Cain stood up. Seeing folly in attempting sleep, the young Count Hargreaves moved to his poisions, deciding to occupy his mind and hands until the household awoke, as he didn't wait for sign of his friend's return.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: um.. well, what do you think..? ;_; I'm very sorry this wasn't up earlier... but my computer spontaneously, well, decided to be a brat. But all is good now, and I want to get the next chapter out... after I sleep... mmm.. sleep. Oh! in case you didn't catch it, this is set between volumes 5 and 6 of the manga (since I've now read all that Sakura-Crisis has scanned, and it seemed like a good place. whee!). And most importantly of all, I want to thank all you reveiweres! ^.^ you put me in the wonderfully good mood that got me all inspired about the plot and sitting down to write!  
  
footeynote: (1) "A card game played by two persons with a pack of thirty-two cards." Or so the footnote in Pride and Prejudice tells me. *^.^* it's an authentic victorian card game! I'm too easily amused... 


	3. Chapter Two

_Sir, It's time to get up._

_Really sir, you must eat something._

_Allow me to get your robe for you, sir._

_Sir, are you all right?_

_You _are_ my life, sir._

_As you wish, sir..._

_Sir..._

_...Sir._

_Goodbye, sir._

"Riff!" 

Golden eyes opened as Cain cried out, awakening himself.  The count was slouched over his desk, head surrouned by equipment and bottles.  He could hear the muffled sounds of life creeping in from the rest of the house; it had to be the morning.  Early morning, for Riff had not yet come in to wake Cain.  In fact, he obviously had not come to put his master to bed.  Cains' brow furrowed, until his sleep-fogged brain recalled the previous night.  "Riff..." Cain winced in apology at the memory of his harsh words.  The Count himself had ordered Riff to take the night off, so, relieved of his duties, the steward had undoubtedly gone straight to bed when he returned to the Hargreaves residence.  Even now, he must be downstairs, most likely preparing the young Count and Miss Hargreaves meal himself.  Yes, that must be.  Satisfied, Cain stood and straightened his clothes before opening the door to investigate Riff's cooking.

"There you are!  Brother, it's not like you to sleep so late!  Or in your clothes..." Merryweather gave her brother a funny look.

Cain blinked in confusion, first at the unexpected presence of his little sister, and then at her inexplicable words.  "Late?  Of course I never sleep late.  Riff always wakes me."  With tea... cream, and no sugar.

"Oh, well then."  Merryweather was silent as they walked down the hall.  "Brother... then where is Riff?  The whole household is in an uproar.... He isn't anywhere to be found." 

When she recieved no reply, Merry looked up to see her brother standing frozen, an unreadable expression upon his face; not fear, nor pain, or anger, but something far beyond all of those and more.  Cain's brow was furrowed, as if in thought.  His eyes pained, and his mouth turned down in the smallest of frowns.  Suddenly he gasped, and oblivious to all else around him, he ran down the hallway, leaving his stunned sister behind.

"Miss Merry, did you find the Count?"

Miffed at her brother, the girl didn't bother to face the maid as she replied, "Yes, but I'm afraid he's gone out.  Oh!  And tell the kitchen staff they won't have to worry about breakfast."

Cain reached the end of the drive before the thought of his carriage managed to cross his mind.  Riff hadn't come back.  The count couldn't imagine why.  Had he been unhappy, wanting to leave?  Did last night provide the proper opportunity.  No... he said he'd stay forever.  He promised he'd never leave.  Maybe he got lost.  Or it was too late, and he's staying in an inn right now.  Maybe he... met someone.  Maybe he... or maybe... Cursed eyes widened, as Cain's thoughts ran themselves in circles to the unthinkable.  The count turned, and raced back to his home to order the small chaise(1) readied.

Bursting back into the house, Cain sped through the halls to his sister's favourite sitting room.  Gasping, he stopped in the doorway, before demanding, "Merryweather!  Where was the inn the whores spoke of?"

"Earl!  Such language!" Merryweather's tutor, a prim old spinster, stood with a scandalized expression beside her student.

"Oh, brother!  Here, I'm just practising my cursive right now, so I'll write you directions," with a smile, the blonde head bent over a scrap of paper, where she hurridly scribbled a few lines.  "There!  Now, Ma'am, did I do the last A correctly?"  Merryweather grinned impishly at her tutor, who was still staring at Cain in horror.

"Here, Merry," Cain took the paper from his sister, noting the improvement of her hand.  Having recovered himself slightly, he turned to the tutor and bowed his head slightly, "My dear Miss Havisham, I apologize for the interruption.  Feel free to continue the lesson once you catch your breath again." He swept from the room, barely allowing the door to swing closed before sprinting once again out of his house.

Cain found the chaise parked before the door, and had the horses moving before he was fully settled.  Having never bothered with the employ of a coachman (Riff always drove), Cain took the reins himself, and set off at a fast trot.

The inn was an old-fashioned building, all red brick and ratty yellow shutters.  A carved wooden sign creaked back and forth, as if the little carved ship were riding through a rough, stormy sea.  Above, one of the shutters had come undone, and a lacey curtain flapped out the open window like a woman's handkerchief.  None of this registered in the count's mind, however.  Only one sight penetrated the fog: the inn was closed.  Not that this could be a surprise, it was barely eight o' clock.  Undoubtably the barmaids were there now, cleaning the common room, preparing for the guests who would soon appear for breakfast.  None of this mattered, however.  Riff had gone inside, or had been inside, and Cain was locked out.  His normally quick mind was frozen, and left him staring blankly at the large wooden wall before him.

And then it opened.  A pair of large, dark eyes, framed by rich wavy hair blinked at the count in confusion.

"Excuse me, but can I help you, sir?" the girl asked.

Cain blinked at the open doors before blurting, "I need to come in."

"Ah, well, I'm afraid we're closed, what with the murder... If you would care to return in a day or two..."

"Actually," Cain cut in, his mind having finally pulled itself out of the fog, "I am here about hte murder.  If I could introduce myself..."

Luminous, black-brown eyes widened, "Oh!  Of course!  You must be the inspector Scotland Yard promised to send.  You were supposed to come last night, you realize?  Ah well, at least you came.  I knew the police wouldn't really ignore a murder.  Please, come right in, and I'll introduce you to the owner."

Cain raised his hand, a vain attempt to stem the flow of words.  Instead of stopping, however, the girl took hold of his wrist, and pulled him inside.

"Oh, inspector, how rude of me!  I haven't even introduced myself.  My name is Chicane."

Cain bowed, "And I am Earl Cain Hargreaves, not and inspector of the Scotland Yard.  I'm afraid I'm here out of a more... personal interest."  He went silent for a moment, before smiling again, "I do apologize for the mistake, but would I still be allowed to ask a few questions?"

Chicane nodded, "I suppose that would be all right... any investigation is better than no investigation, I suppose.  What would you like to know, earl?"

"Well, were you working the night the body was discovered?"

"Saturday?  No, I was in the Black Dragon.... It's down the next street."

Cain paused for a moment, "Well... do you remember anything about the victim?  Did he come here often, when was the last time anyone saw him... Did he ever have a companion?"

"Hmm... Mr. Jeremaid... he usually came in every few nights, always alone.  Oh!  except for a week ago... the last time he was in.  It was Monday, I remember, because it was pretty quiet.  That time, Mr. Jeremaid came in, and joined a blonde woman.  He didn't drink anything, either, which was strange.  Normally he would have at least a mug of ale."

Cain sat listening intently as the girl talked.  When she finished, he continued to sit, lost in thought.  Chicane waited, watching the young Earl.  The silence stretched on, until Cain seemed suddenly to come back to himself and everything around him, "Do you know the name of his companion?  And did you see them leave together?  Or did they depart seperatly?"

Chicane closed her eyes, thinking hard.  "... no.... I don't remember hearing her name.  And the woman left first, if I remember correctly... I don't know.. I was on the other side of the room, and she ordered all barmaids away when she first arrived.  Oh, I'm sorry sir, but that's all I know... And I really ought to get back to work."

"That's perfectly all right.  I don't think there's anything more for me to ask you... But would it be a problem for me to stop by again if I think of anything?"

Smiling as she returned to her cleaning, Chicane nodded her assent, "Of course, Earl.  You're welcome here any time at all."

Cain bowed before letting himself out to the street.  Thoughts ran freely through his mind as he walked, paying little attention to his surroundings.  The body had been discovered on Saturday, and Cain had found no plausable reason to question the girl about the patrons of the previous night, Sunday.  No way for him to discover if Riff had gone to investigate or not.  Not that Cain needed to be told that.  He knew the man had gone there.  He was just too bloody loyal to do anything for himeslf, even when ordered.  Cain raged silently at his missing companion.  Why did he have to be so selfless, anyway?  He had given Cain his life, and the count knew he could never deserve it.  No-one could.  Except Riff.  But he would never accept something like that.  It took a heartless, selfish soul to take control of another's life.  It took someone like Cain, someone absorbed entirely by his own comfort, his own entertainment, his own worthless life...

"Extra! Extra!  Second murder of the week! Read all about it! Only 5p!"  The shrill cries of the newsboy across the street burst through Cain's angry monologue.  "Murder in the Anglessy Arms!  Second Body found in local Pub!  Only 5p!"

~oOo~

huh... i found another, older entirely different version of this chapter... which had bits that were much much better.... so here's the spiffy new and improved chapter two! 

a footeynote!

(1) Technically, I probably could've used a car, but since they didn't show up till the 1890's... and Cain, in my mind, much more suits the old-fashioned carriage anyway.  Shmeh, I say!

~ Old author's note... why, you ask?  Why not?

well…. Been awhile, ne? X_x Well, I have no excuses, really. This isn't even the completed chapter… but I really wanted to post something, and I have to go to work, and if I leave it, it'll be another month before I try again. O_o;; 

Anyhoodles, enough of my pitiful lazyness… This is really something for you sweet wonderful people who left reviews that made me feel really bad for being such a lazy bum. ^.^;; And I could promise that from now on I'll write lots and update all the time… but I won't. We'll just have to see… and hope for the best!

Once again, thank you for the reviews, they really do make my day when I get one! 

Until next time…. 


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